Page 4 of The Adventure of the Cats' Peril

  Elizabeth Rebecca Mabuse was born in 1956 in St. Louis to a prostitute who abandoned her at the hospital. She gave the baby's name for the birth certificate, but refused to give her own or name the father. She then disappeared during the night.

  Mabuse was given over to foster care, but she was bounced from one loveless home to another. In at least one instance she was emotionally and physically abused, and in another sexually abused. Unlike other children in her situation, however, she had a highly intelligent and disciplined mind and she used it to cope by suppressing her emotions and training herself in logic and rational thought, so that she could dissociate herself from whatever was being done to her.

  When she turned fifteen, however, her life changed forever. She was approached by a lawyer who gave her three items entrusted to his care. The first was a file of documents, the second a business card for a Swiss bank with an account number printed on it, and the third a key to a storage facility. The documents explained her heritage, while the storage unit contained notebooks and laboratory paraphernalia, but the Swiss bank account caught everyone's attention: it showed a balance of close to ten million dollars. Her current foster parents tried to seize control of the funds, citing her as a minor. However, she sued for emancipation with the lawyer's help on the grounds of financial self-sufficiency, and was granted adult status, due in no small part to her apparent maturity.

  She acquired her GED and then applied to MIT, where she became the only applicant to ever receive a perfect score on the entrance exams. She was accepted, and entered their science program. She spent fourteen hours of every day attending classes, studying, and doing homework, then another six hours studying her family history, sleeping only four hours a day, weekends included. In only five years she graduated with a triple PhD in biology, chemistry, and physics, while auditing classes on engineering, computers, electronics, and information technology. Her advisors and professors questioned her decision to go for a wide base of knowledge instead of specializing in one field, but the challenges ceased when, for her doctoral thesis, she developed a working prototype of a protein-based computer. She graduated magna cum laude, having won the most awards of any student in the entire history of MIT.

  Her achievement is perhaps all the more remarkable considering that, at a school where cooperation among students is not only encouraged but even necessary to successfully pass, she accomplished everything completely on her own. For example, she was the only student to win the Mechanical Engineering Department's gladiatorial robot contest by herself instead of as part of a team, and with a robot that was considerably more sophisticated than anything at the time or since until recent years. Nor was this an anomalous incident. She had a reputation for being a loner, which was reinforced by her asocial behavior. While polite enough, she made no friends, however, she did date frequently, despite being rather homely. The reason was because she was a sexual addict, and had frequent liaisons with male students and professors. Even so, she felt only physical stimulation. She seemed incapable or unwilling to form emotional attachments with anyone, for any reason. The staff psychologists went so far as to diagnose her as dissocial, possibly even dissociative, but she refused treatment and since her "condition" did not seem to be debilitating, she could not be forced. It was generally assumed that she would eventually seek out treatment after her condition made her life difficult.

  What was not generally understand at the time was that her dissocial tendencies were by choice. They began in her childhood, as a way to cope with the abuse and neglect, with the unintended effect of rendering her emotionally stagnant. She continued with it, though, because of what she had learned about her family. The documents she had received from the lawyer did not name her mother or father; instead, they were almost exclusively concerned with her paternal grandfather. Pratorias Mabuse had been a mad scientist and supervillain who acted as a criminal mastermind for over three decades beginning in the twenties. He was a master of disguise and hypnosis, a blackmailer and manipulator who commanded a legion of agents to carry out his schemes. His real-life exploits were described as fiction in the novels of Norbert Jacques and the movies of Fritz Lang, and he served as the inspiration for such fictional characters as Fu Manchu, Fantomas, Dr. Caligari, and Septimus Pretorius. By all accounts he was a genius who had anticipated and developed for his own use nearly all the future scientific and technological developments of the last half of the twentieth and the first decade of the twenty-first centuries. The only mention of her parents in the documents was a short note that Mabuse had had a son by a White Russian women, who became a petty criminal and raped a prostitute. Though he despised his son, he kept watch over his granddaughter until his death in 1970, just before which he arranged to pass on his legacy to her. Appended to the documents was his personal note to her:

  "I have reached the end. Throughout my life, scientism was my religion; the scientific method my only morality, but I have no regrets. I leave you a tiny portion of my ill-gotten gains along with my greatest legacy: my research. Continue my work; let nothing stand in your way: not sentiment, not fear, not prejudice, not ignorance, not the foolishness of small-minded, petty little men with no vision. You are my one hope; make my dream come true."

  His legacy consisted of the notebooks, equipment, and samples that had been placed in storage. The younger Mabuse felt little concern for her grandfather's alleged crimes, but his research fascinated her. As she read through his journals and inventoried the paraphernalia, she felt for the first time something she had not since very early childhood: an emotion, specifically excitement. She vowed to adopt his vision and make his dream of a scientific utopia a reality, even if she had to commit her own crimes to do it.

  During her final semester, she was approached by Medb hErenn. The massive woman revealed that she had been an enemy of the elder Mabuse since the beginning of his career, spending considerable effort to hunt him down and kill him, but she never succeeded. When he realized he was dying, he approached her and made a deal with her, since of all the people in the world, she was the only one he could trust. In exchange for the bulk of his fortune and access to his research, she agreed to act as executor of his legacy and patron to his granddaughter. It was she who arranged for the lawyer to approach her and help her become emancipated. It was she who, by paying large endowments to MIT, bribed them to prevent them from expelling her once they had "diagnosed" her psychological condition. Now she offered Mabuse a chance to make her adopted dream come true. She offered her space, equipment, and funding in her research institute if she would continue her grandfather's work. Mabuse agreed, and upon graduation moved to Cairnsford in Colorado.

  Unfortunately, things did not turn out well. Mabuse continued her dissocial tendencies at the institute, refusing to make friends or socialize with her colleagues. As at university, she was polite enough, but she still alienated people with her cold manner and quiet arrogance, even as she continued her promiscuous activities. Not even Medb was able to get close to her, which frustrated the massive woman no end. On top of that, Mabuse showed a blatant disregard for the ethics of research and a callous lack of concern for the wellbeing of her test subjects. Though scrupulous in her attention to experimental integrity and never intentionally cruel, she nonetheless ignored safety and humane protocols if they interfered with the goals of her project. This caused a great deal of friction between herself and the institute administrators, and only Medb's continual intervention prevented her from being discharged. Though Medb counseled her and advised her to play by the rules, Mabuse made only token efforts to reform, and even Medb's patience began to wear thin.

  The crisis came when a young scientist whom Medb was mentoring as a protege became interested in Mabuse's numerous projects and volunteered to be her assistant. Though at first Medb approved, since the relationship produced the closest Mabuse had come to friendship, her assistant gradually came to adopt Mabuse's consequentialist approach to research, much to Medb's alarm and outrage. Before the former
queen could intervene, however, Mabuse initiated an afterhours experiment in violation of the institute's rules. She ignored a critical safety protocol and the result was an accident that destroyed the lab and killed the assistant. Medb was infuriated, but before she could have Mabuse apprehended, she had disappeared. It was then that Medb vowed to hunt her down and kill her.

  Mabuse had anticipated that a crisis would come, and she had made plans for it. Medb had taken the fortune left to her and invested it. Mabuse quietly liquidated 90% of these assets, then deposited them in overseas banks under false names. She subsequently invested this money in lucrative but unethical enterprises through dummy holding companies. She copied all her grandfather's notebooks and her own records, and arranged to have the more useful samples and equipment he left her removed from storage and hidden away. As such, she was ready for the eventual escape and had the wherewithal to set up on her own. Medb had seriously underestimated her resourcefulness and capacity for long-term planning, and this would plague her vendetta for years to come.

  Even so, Mabuse knew that, at least in the beginning, she would need allies to help hide her away. She contacted former associates of her grandfather, those still alive, and one of them put her in touch with Unit 666. Despite sounding like a bad in-joke, Unit 666 is a legitimate U.S. government code for an ultra-top secret military black operations group involved in scientific and technological research. Its purpose is to anticipate and prepare for Armageddon. It had a similar consequentialist philosophy as Mabuse, and its controllers appreciated her genius and expertise. Mabuse worked for Unit 666 fulltime for five years, and she has continued to do projects for them for the better part of her life. One advantage from her association that she particularly enjoyed was that Unit 666 allowed her to pursue her own projects. Another was that it was all too willing to fund and construct secret research labs for her use. Unit 666 in turn benefited from the results of her freelance work, and the plausible deniability it offered in that she could be used as a scapegoat in case her activities were discovered.

  The result was that, until she encountered Team Girl, she happily worked non-stop on whatever idea caught her fancy. It was not uncommon for her to have a dozen projects going more or less simultaneously in various stages of completion. The only drawback during this time was Medb's relentless pursuit. Several times Medb discovered one of Mabuse's secret laboratories and raided it, hoping to finally catch her. However, Mabuse always managed to give her the slip, and what was worse, she also managed to secure her on-going projects, data, and research notes, and take them with her. Though Mabuse took great pains to keep herself concealed, she also set up elaborate plans for evacuation, so that she was nearly always ready to flee at a moment's notice.

  Mabuse's accomplishments are too numerous to list here, but perhaps the greatest was her perfection of the proteinaceous computer, which led to the development of an artificial brain. This in turn allowed her to create the first fully autonomous robot, capable of sapience and self-direction, but within a framework of hard-wired "instincts" that could not be altered or ignored. Among these were override protocols that would allow Mabuse to gain control of a robot and shut it down or alter its programming. However, her concern was not so much preventing renegade robots from running amok, but to protect herself and prevent their being exploited by individuals whose agendas did not match her own.

  Though Medb is usually credited with the genesis of Team Girl, in a very real sense Mabuse can be considered the Girls' godmother. In 1987, she learned about two women in Europe who were well-known for their extraordinary talents and abilities. This started her thinking about the classical problem of nature versus nurture. She wondered if their abilities were the result of inborn traits, training and experience, or a combination of both. She conceived of a research project to test this idea, but to carry it through she had to have the two women kidnapped. She removed an ovary from each, harvested the eggs, then combined them to form viable zygotes, eventually producing fifteen embryos. She implanted twelve, six in each woman, keeping the other three in reserve. Eleven spontaneously aborted, but one quickened and continued to develop normally. Mabuse's plan was to take the baby after birth and raise it under controlled conditions, to see which if any of the abilities it developed were inherent and which were due to its environment. She considered this would be her magnum opus and she was prepared to devote the rest of her life to its completion.

  Unfortunately, her dream was shattered when Medb attacked her facility without warning. For once, Mabuse was forced to abandon her work to save her life. Fortunately, Medb found the two women before she could locate Mabuse, and she decided to rescue them, giving Mabuse a chance to get away. The baby became Sunny. As such, it can be successfully argued that had it not been for Mabuse, there would never have been a Team Girl.

  Mabuse was bitterly disappointed over the loss of her original project, but she decided she could salvage it by altering the parameters. She rationalized this by calculating that, while controlled conditions were ideal, they were not realistic. If the abilities of Sunny's parents were due wholly or in part to their environment, that environment had been the real world, not a laboratory. She concluded that in fact this might turn out to be a serendipitous opportunity to observe the development of special talents in the proper setting, despite the lack of precise controls. It was a bold step for her, since it violated the basic tenets of proper experimental research, but the only alternative was to write off the project and start over, something she didn't want to do. As such, she kept as close an eye on Sunny's progress as she could, indirectly through school and government agency records, and when possible through direct observation.

  As time went by, she gradually began to suspect that this project would be a failure. Sunny showed no signs of special abilities, beyond a high intelligence that was being hampered by the educational system. In fact, she tended to demonstrate the opposite, coming across as scatterbrained, undisciplined, and hedonistic. Disappointed, Mabuse devoted continually less time to her as Sunny got older. After her parents disappeared, however, Mabuse considered contacting her in the hopes of making her a protege to help her in her research. That way she could continue the project by training her directly. She waited until Medb eased her surveillance of Sunny, after she started college, and then monitored her academic activity when she enrolled in Purdue's School of Science. Even as she was preparing to make contact, however, Sunny was kidnapped. Alarmed, Mabuse managed to track her Denver, but there lost track of her. Rather than give her up, however, Mabuse decided to stay in the hope that Sunny would one day reappear, this despite the danger of being discovered by Medb. In time she did find Sunny again and even meet her in person, but in a most unexpected way. After that, Mabuse began experimenting with Team Girl, to see how the dynamic of Sunny's relationship with Eile would affect her. Meanwhile, she continued with her other projects, especially her robotics research.

  Now in her mid-fifties, Mabuse has mellowed somewhat since her impetuous youth. The need to operate completely on her own, while at the same time learning to deal with bureaucratic politics and military obstinacy has forced her to expand her emotional horizon and to develop a greater sense of empathy, if for no other reason than to avoid unnecessary confrontations and to better gain other people's cooperation. As with everything else, however, she approaches this scientifically. Using psychology, she has learned to manipulate people emotionally. She is not the master her grandfather was, but she has managed to hold her own against people who spend their lives manipulating and exploiting others for their own benefit, and has even turned the tables on some of them. In doing so, some of it has rubbed off on her. She has developed a greater emotional range, particularly humor, and has made a greater effort to be more social. She has also acquired a proprietary, almost maternal, interest in the Girls, particularly Sunny, whom she still sees as something of an ongoing project. She respects Medb, despite their current antagonistic relationship, and in fact would be the first
to bury the hatchet, if she didn't believe Medb would bury it in her skull. She even has a sense of honor, in that she scrupulously adheres to her promises and will not take advantage of people she genuinely respects. The only thing she has not curbed is her sexual proclivities.

  Yet for all that, scientism is still her religion and the scientific method her only morality. Her only concern is maintaining the integrity of her experiments, and she will sacrifice whatever would interfere with that. She has no qualms about using humans in her research, she willingly commits acts that would be considered inhumane or atrocities, and she lacks any empathy with regard to the level of pain, humiliation, or degradation she might inflict. Even so, she is not a sadist. She has never inflicted more pain than a particular experiment demanded, and she has never inflicted pain for its own sake or to satisfy some perverse pleasure. To her way of thinking, it is immaterial whether pain occurs or not. She does not encourage it, but neither does she prevent it. She is not indifferent to pain, but disinterested; she is totally impartial, even when she experiences it herself. She has throughout her career committed or participated in acts that could be deemed crimes against humanity, but only as part of her obsessive and relentless pursuit of knowledge, and while she would be the first to accept that the latter cannot be used to justify the former, her consequentialist philosophy would nonetheless allow her to argue that the ends can and should be used to justify the means. As such, while not wicked or cruel, she can be dangerous, in both an intentional and unintentional manner.

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  About the Author

  Kevin L. O'Brien was born with a pen in his hand.

  Well, not quite, but he has been writing for as long as he can remember, at least since First Grade. Writing has always been his first, true love, but it hasn't always been his career. He worked for 15 years as a biomedical researcher, then for 3 years as a web designer. However, after 30 years of trying to be published in print with little success, he has decided to try his hand at self-publishing. Most of his works will be sold as ebooks through various online retailers, but he also plans to make some available for free exclusively on Goodreads.

  He writes primarily speculative fiction--fantasy, science fiction, horror, and their sub-genres--but he also likes to try his hand at thrillers, suspense, mystery, and even westerns. However, his stories tend to have a fantasy element, no matter how subtle.

  Most of his stories involve the following three main characters:

  Medb hErenn [https://www.medbherenn.com/]--One-time queen of Ireland, she is over 3500 years old. A warrior and a sorceress, she cannot be harmed by any weapon made by the hand of man.

  Eile and Sunny, Team Girl [https://www.teamgirlforever.com/]--They are two adorable, vivacious, fun-loving young women whose motto is ONWARD TO ADVENTURE!!! Yet trouble follows them like a love-sick puppy wherever they go.

  Sir Differel Van Helsing [https://www.sir-differel.com/]--The descendent of Abraham Van Helsing and King Arthur, she heads the Caerleon Order, the premier monster-hunting organization of the United Kingdom and the Commonwealth. She commands Dracula, the most powerful vampire extant, and the greatsword Caliburn, better known as Excalibur.

  He also writes a series of sword & sorcery stories set in an alternative universe known as the Lands of the Dreams of Men.

  Kevin lives in Denver with his family and 4 cats.

  For more information, see the Songs of the Seanchai [https://www.seanchaisongs.com/].

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  Discover other titles by Kevin L. O'Brien:

  A fidus Aranea, Adventurer's Honeymoon, Barbarians R Us, The Beast of Exmoor,

  The Christmas Vampires, Dark Vengeance, A Deliberation of Morality, The Denver Walker, Desperate Acts, The Differential Damsel, Disposable Commodities, Do Unto Others,

  Double Image, Dribble & Maggot in the Land of Dreams, Far-Sight, Feline Savior,

  Felis ex Machina, Fun 'n' Games, The Golden Mushroom, Gourmand Hag, Gruff Tolls, Immanuel, In an Octopus's Garden, Inseparable, Jigsaw Dragon, The Lions of Inganok,

  A Little Hospitality, Man Friday, Masie's Mind, No Torrent Like Greed, Oak Do Hate,

  One-Percenter Vendetta, The Peril Gem, Post-Traumatic Redemption, The Price of Folly,

  Pride and Fall, Pyrrhic Victory, Redshirt, Rhapsody in Orange, Sacrificial Offering, Shenanigans, The Steel Gazelle, The Surrogate, Survival & Sacrifice, The Temple of Ubasti,

  A Typical Friday Night, We Deliver, Youthful Indiscretion

  Enjoy these other titles at fine ebook retailers everywhere.

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  Connect with Kevin L. O'Brien Online:

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/KLOB_writer

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/kevin.l.obrien.1

  Website: https://www.seanchaisongs.com/

  DeviantArt: https://teamgirl-differel.deviantart.com/

  Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/Kevin_L_OBrien

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  Sample Excerpts

  From "Barwench Tales"

  Differel Van Helsing followed Victor down the side street towards the tavern at the dead end. According to him, it was the best public house in the whole of the Six Kingdoms. Since she was still pretty much a novice, who was she to dispute him?

  It was her second visit to the Land of the Dreams of Men. The first had left something to be desired. Not only had Victor been on a diplomatic mission until the very end of her stay, she had nearly been killed twice, not to mention almost raped and repeatedly attacked. About the only high point was when she bonded to her Wakiya, Eleanor d'Aquitaine. Still, she was glad she had visited and had decided to keep coming back for as long as she could, Victor being no small inducement.

  For the second time around, Victor had resolved to make it up to her. Meeting her when she arrived in Ulthar, they spent the next five Dream-days, and nights, celebrating their reunion. Then he took her on a walking tour of the Six Kingdoms to help her get acclimated. A week later they were in the town of Glaschu, visiting one of his old haunts.

  They both had the same ulterior motive for taking the tour. Victor had been a resident of the Dreamlands for several Dream-centuries before she met him there. During that time he had had a reputation for being a rake, with a rather large stable of lovers scattered throughout the Land. As such, for him it was as much a personal trip down memory lane as he visited each of them one last time. Being as she had no reason to doubt his love, she wasn't jealous of his affairs, but she didn't trust his former paramours. For her, the tour afforded a chance to find out who they were and what they were like. She discovered, much to her astonishment and chagrin, that most were perfectly fine and decent women, people whom she could gladly call friends, and the few who weren't were no threat. The only thing that bothered her was that they all had the same body type: tall, physically strong, buxom, and statuesque, with long shapely legs; so different from her own slender frame and boyish figure. Because of that she sometimes wondered why he married her.

  The tavern was the location of Sarah, a serving wench about whom he had made a glowing report as the most energetic and vivacious woman he ever knew, other than her. She had found the comparison so ludicrous she laughed; she was neither, at least she hoped not. Still, it had piqued her interest enough to want to see that paragon of vitality.

  The sign above the door read "The White Barrows" and displayed two pale cream mounds against a green meadow. As they approached the entrance, the double doors flew open, forcing them to retreat to either side of the street. A big, burly, half-naked barbarian, wearing a bearskin kilt and a horned helmet, flew out of the building, but he wasn't on his feet. Rather he sailed parallel to the ground a good ten feet before landing on his chin and skidding a few feet further on. Differel peered around the threshold, expecting to see an even larger barbarian heading out after the first.

  It was a wench, wearing a dirndl without a blouse, with the stereotypical low-cut bodice displaying
generous cleavage and a skirt slitted up to the hip. She had long bright honey-gold hair piled up on top of her head and the requisite double mounded bosom threatening to explode out of the tightly laced top. As Differel stared, pop-eyed, at the bulging milky flesh, she suddenly realized what the pub's name referred to.

  The wench rubbed imaginary dirt off her hands and turned to head back into the interior when Victor strode in. "Sarah!"

  She turned and gave him a searching look, as if daring him to cause trouble, but then she brightened into a huge smile. "Victor!"

  Of course, Differel thought. She had the right body shape.

  They rushed at each other and fell into an embrace. Piqued, Differel almost spoke out, but she refrained herself.

  It's just a show of affection between good friends.

  Then Sarah bent Victor backwards and clamped her mouth on his.

  For a moment Differel felt too stunned to intervene. "Er..."

  She ran her hand through his wavy walnut-brown hair. That triggered her indignation. "Excuse me."

  Victor gazed at her with one eye and spread his hands in a 'what can I do' gesture. She felt her gorge rise. "I beg your pardon."

  Sarah waved at her with one arm to leave them alone without breaking contact. That was the last straw. Losing her temper she strode up to them and thumped her on her back. "Hey!"

  Sarah let go of Victor, and caught be surprise he fell to the floor. The wench stared at her with an enraged look on her face. "Just what do you think yer doing!?"

  "That happens to be my husband, you slag!"

  "Husband?!" Sarah reared back with a bug-eyed look of shock, then turned and gave Victor a look that could set off a nuclear explosion. "You're married!?"

  She grabbed the wench by the arm. "You leave him al--"

  Sarah slugged her in the mouth. She fell back into the wall of the vestibule, more stunned than hurt. She raised her hand and felt her mouth, then looked at her fingers. There was blood on the glove.

  She felt her rage explode. "Why, you filthy wanker!"

  She charged her. Sarah threw another punch; she blocked it and slammed a fist into her gut. As the wench doubled over, she kneed her in the face. Sarah grappled her, pushed her against a pillar, and smacked her chin with her head. Differel brought her arms up, broke Sarah's hold, and boxed her ears. As the wench fell back she lashed out and kicked her in the stomach.

  Three men grabbed her as four others grappled Sarah. "Take your hands off me, you bloody chavs!" She struggled to get loose.

  Sarah fought and kicked. "Let me go! I'll tear the bitch apart!" The four bouncers seemed barely able to keep a hold of her.

  From "The Bouncing Sunny"

  The room didn't look like a laboratory, more like a machinist's workshop. Which, Sunny reflected, was exactly what it had been before Medb acquired it and converted it into a makeshift physics facility. She had cleared out most of the equipment that had simply been rusting and gathering dust, while the rest she refurbished and moved into one corner to create the specialized devices she needed for her project. The other three corners, and practically all of the available wall space in between, were filled with bank upon bank of supercomputers. Three dozen capacity computing machines feeding into three Cray special-purpose capability computing mainframes, that in turn sent their results to the ordinary desktop model running the show. At least, that was as much as Sunny understood of Medb's explanation. And as fascinating as all that was, she found the project itself much more interesting.

  Medb had been in Denver for about a month before she made any mention of it. As was her habit whenever she was in town, she stayed with the Girls at their house. It was actually her house, but she had bought it for their use, so they thought of it as their own. Still, Medb had her own bedroom and she came and went as she pleased, often keeping unusual hours. But she found time to share meals with them and catch up on their latest adventures. On that particular evening Sunny had made Irish stew with whiskey gravy, which Medb particularly enjoyed, and afterwards they sat on the back patio drinking wine as a fire burned in the chimenea.

  "I do not suppose either of you have thought much about the structure of the universe," she said.

  Sunny glanced at Eile, who gazed back with a perplexed look on her face. "What left field did that come out of?" Eile asked.

  "Hellfighters, 1968, starring John Wayne and Jim Hutton."

  "Sunny, not now!"

  "It is why I am here. I told you about the other worlds I traveled when I was younger."

  "Yeah, sure, but --" Eile said.

  "I have always wondered where they were located. At first I thought they lay in other interdimensional universes scattered throughout the cosmos. Now I believe they were simply part of our universe, only so far away that we could never hope to see them, much less visit them."

  "You're talking about a Level One multiverse," Sunny said.

  "Precisely."

  "Okay, but --" Eile tried again.

  "However, I have wondered if there were higher dimensions that allowed for other universes. Up until recently, I had never had the means to test for this. Then last year one of my researchers at Cruachan discovered a method for creating implosions."

  Sunny knew that Cruachan was the research and development factory Medb ran down in Cairnsford.

  "In examining his equations, I came to the conclusion that the only way to explain how it worked was that the majority of the energy of the detonation was being carried away across interdimensional space by gravitons, rather than released into our universe as photons."

  "Fine, but --" Eile repeated. Sunny could see she was getting frustrated.

  "That gave me the idea for an experiment to send an energy pulse out as a kind of sonar 'ping' to detect any other universes and try to determine where they lay within the dimensional structure of the cosmos."

  "Sounds fascinating," Sunny said, "but why are you telling us?"

  "And why work up here?" Eile finally managed to ask.

  "I came up with this idea on my own; I wish to pursue it alone. Besides, I do not believe anyone else has thought of it, not even Mabuse. As such, I need not share the glory of the discovery. As for why tell you, I find that I need assistance. It has taken me over a year to assemble the necessary equipment and do the calculations, even with the help of supercomputers, but I am finally ready to conduct my initial experiment tomorrow. However, I need two additional people to help monitor the process. I had hoped you two would be interested."

  Sunny recalled that Eile needed far less convincing than usual; in fact, she seemed downright eager. As such, Medb drove them out to the lab bright and early the next morning. Sunny really didn't know what to expect, but she was surprised to see that, other than the computers and the machinery, the room contained only one piece of equipment. It was a column about a foot in diameter, which stretched from floor to ceiling. At waist-height were five control stations, whereas at head-height the column contained a glass jar a yard tall. Medb explained that the implosion would take place inside the jar, using a magnetic field to contain it. She asked Eile to monitor the station that controlled the containment field while Sunny monitored the power station. She assured them that all they needed to do was watch the readouts that displayed the levels, and make minor adjustments at her instruction. Sunny's panel also had a safety switch, a level that when pulled would cut off power and prevent detonation. If necessary, she would be responsible for throwing it. She then asked them to change into special anti-static jumpsuits before they approached the column.

  Nothing much happened for most of the day. They spent the morning calibrating the sensors and recording equipment with a few small implosions, setting up for the experiment, and performing a simulated run. After a brief break for lunch, they initiated the test. However, that implosion would be the big one, and it needed a lot of energy. It took most of the afternoon for the power to slowly build up towards detonation. Sunny and Eile read off measurements from their stations at regu
lar intervals as Medb moved between the other three. The containment field didn't reach 100% until the power level had reached 25% of detonation threshold, but once there it held steady. Finally, however, in early evening, the power level rose faster, and the tedium turned to excited anxiety.

  "Power level," Medb barked.

  "Eighty percent of threshold," Sunny reported.

  "Containment."

  "Ninety-nine percent," Eile said in a nervous tone. That was the first time it had deviated from full capacity.

  "Do not worry, that is not a problem, but remember, if containment drops below ninety, we must abort. Do not get distracted."

  Eile nodded. "Understood."

  "Two minutes to implosion threshold," the computer reported. Sunny had been startled the first time it spoke, and then she wondered if it was Masie, but she quickly realized it was just a mindless audio countdown.

  "Power."

  "Eighty-five percent."

  "Containment."

  "Ninety-eight percent."

  "We are getting close." Medb adjusted a few controls. "Fuel and oxidizer injection commencing."

  Sunny watched as a mist of fine droplets was sprayed into the jar from both top and bottom. They collected in the center and swirled around each other as they mixed, forming a hazy ball that floated in mid-air, gently oscillating up and down.

  "One minute to implosion threshold."

  "Power ninety-three percent."

  "Containment ninety-five." Eile sounded worried now.

  "Still not a problem. Stay sharp!"

  "Forty-five seconds to implosion threshold."

  "Extending arc nodes." Two black carbon studs emerged from the top and bottom of the jar. Medb had explained that an electric arc would pass between them, igniting the fuel mixture and setting off detonation. Hopefully the containment field would then force it to implode instead of explode. If it was strong enough.

  "Power ninety-five percent."

  "Containment ninety-three percent." Eile's voice cracked.

  "We are still fine." But Medb sounded less than convinced.

  "Thirty seconds to implosion threshold."

  "Charging node capacitors. Standby for detonation."

  "Power ninety-seven!"

  "Containment ninety-two!" Eile sounded real scared.

  Medb didn't say anything, but Sunny noticed she was sweating. She had never seen her sweat before!

  "Fifteen seconds to implosion threshold." The computer voice was flat and passionless, completely at odds with their rising anxiety.

  "Power ninety-eight!"

  "Containment ninety-one!" Eile practically shrieked.

  "Something is wrong, it should not have dropped that low. Kill the power."

  Sunny grabbed the lever and pulled.

  It wouldn't move.

  Panic flooded through her as she jerked and pulled at it. She grabbed it with both hands and yanked as hard as she could. It didn't move a millimeter.

  "Ten seconds to implosion threshold," droned the monotone voice.

  "Kill the power!"

  "Containment ninety percent!"

  "I'm trying! I can't, it won't budge!"

  Medb raced around to her console. "Move!" Sunny jumped out of the way as the massive woman grabbed the lever, but even with her strength it refused to shift.

  "Five seconds to implosion threshold."

  "Containment eighty-nine; no, eighty-eight percent." For the first time Eile's voice was barely above a whisper.

  Medb braced a foot against the console and pulled as hard as could, cursing a blue streak in Irish. Sunny came around to stand behind Eile, who stared at the readout on her console, her face pale, her hands clenched into fists so tight her knuckles went white, as she grimaced in fear. Sunny heard metal protest as Medb's foot made a depression in the console's casing from the effort she exerted.

  "We're not gonna make it," she heard Eile breathe.

  Medb roared loud enough to shake the walls as the lever slid down its track, screaming all the way. It then broke free and snapped into place; Medb lost her footing and grip, and fell backwards away from the column.

  "Implosion threshold imminent."

  A blinding actinic bolt flashed between the carbon arc studs. The cloud ball flared into a sun, starkly illuminating everything in the room. For a second, the image of the column and Eile were etched into Sunny's mind. Then the ball of white light expanded, engulfed Eile, and flooded Sunny's vision as it flowed past her.

  From "Dirty Girls"

  "The more I think about it," Medb declared one day, "the more certain I become, that I appreciate a woman's breasts more than any of her other physical attributes."

  Rothgar the Reaver paused as he took a sip of ale, and looked at the former queen over the rim of his tankard. "Are you serious?" he asked in a surprised tone.

  She grinned as she watched the two blonde, buxom, hard-bodied, and fully naked young women wrestling in the central mudpit. "Most definitely."

  He glanced at the massive woman's own large, firm, well-rounded bosom, and remarked in a dry tone, "Well, considering the quantity and quality of your own attribute, I don't blame you."

  She turned her head to give him one of her haughty imperious looks of reproach, but when he winked at her, she broke into a smile.

  "Those two ladies are adept at other forms of entertainment."

  Her smile widened into another grin. "Indeed?"

  "Oh yes, and they're not picky as to gender. At least, Caeli isn't; I'm not sure about Maorna. Come to think of it, whenever I've been with them, it was Caeli who serviced me, while Maorna did her. So I'm sure she would not object to being your partner while I take her sister."

  She had gone back to watching the women, but she snapped her head around in surprise. "They are sisters?"

  "Of course; you can't fake that kind of rivalry." He gestured towards the pit where the combatants were pulling each other's hair as they shrieked like wildcats. "Does that bother you?"

  "It sounds perverse."

  "I don't believe it! Mayv of the Friendly Thighs has scruples."

  "I am not a striapach," she retorted in a hot manner.

  "I'm sure you're not, whatever it is. The problem is easily solved: we will use separate rooms."

  She was by no means reassured, but her interest had been piqued. Uncertain as to how to reply, she once again looked back at the wrestlers, as if they would somehow signal her an answer.

  He smiled at her dilemma. "Why don't we go talk with them, see what they have to say about it?"

  "I would not want to interrupt their current activity; the other patrons may not appreciate it." And indeed, those who were not too inebriated or too involved with their own activities were boisterously egging the women on, both with words and with coins tossed onto the platform surrounding the pit.

  "They only do this to advertise themselves, when they have no better, or more profitable, prospects. They won't mind, and the crowd expects it to happen at some point." He stood up. "Come on, we'd better do it before someone else does." And he proceeded to thread his way around the tables to the ladder. She hesitated a few moments, then mentally shrugged and followed him.

  The Bear Baocu na Musac had been built into a natural depression in the southeast hills on the outskirts of Ulthar. The cooking pits and a trio of bars had been set up on the rim, and the tables on terraces cut into the sides of the crater, all linked by ladders that were more like narrow, steep stairs. At the very nadir of the basin sat a patio for dancing and other forms of entertainment, and at its center was constructed a tile-lined sink in a natural cavity. When not otherwise covered, the sink could be filled with water or layered with mud or sand and used for various forms of spectacles, such as the wrestling match going on below.

  They had been sitting on the bottom-most terrace, so it took almost no time at all to climb down to the patio. As they approached the pit, she could see that the two women were kneeling in the thick, gooey mud, one behind the othe
r, facing in her direction. The woman in back had the other in a head lock, and it seemed to her that they were both so intent on killing each other that they would not respond to any distraction. Yet they both spotted them at the same time, and immediately disengaged themselves. Still kneeling, they made their way to the wall of the sink, beaming enthusiastically at the mountebank barbarian.

  "Good day, ladies," he said, and they returned the greeting, nodding and grinning. They then turned their attention towards her.

  He introduced the former queen, and she could see from their expressions that they recognized her name. "This is Caeli--" He indicated the woman on the left. "--and this is her sister, Maorna." He pointed to the other beside her.

  She nodded to them, but said nothing. They were so much alike that she was having difficulty distinguishing between them; not quite twins, but very close. Caeli was thinner, with longer limbs and a narrower face, while Maorna was broader with a round face. The differences were slight at best, but they were enough for her to get a handle on their identities.

  The sisters gave her what she interpreted as sultry looks, but Maorna's was downright lustful. Caeli looked back at Rothgar as he continued his pitch, but the other sister kept eye contact with her.

  "We were wondering if the two of you would like to spend the afternoon with us?"

  Caeli glanced at Medb before replying. "Together or separately?"

  "Separately."

  Caeli looked at her sister, but when Maorna didn't look back, she punched her in the arm.

  Maorna shot her an angry look. "What?!"

  "They want to do us separately."

  Maorna scowled. "Disappointing." Then she looked back up at Medb. "Are they sure they won't change their minds?" And she licked her lips.

  "Quite sure, unfortunately," he said; "my friend doesn't like to share."

  Annoyed, Medb gave him a look of frowning reproach, but glanced down when she heard Caeli remark, "Pity. My sister and I have never done a three-way with another woman; we would be most eager to try it."

  "I have never craiceann a bhualadh le sisters," Medb said, speaking for the first time, "but I have no desire to rectify that."

  "We could trade off?" he suggested in a hopeful tone, and Caeli looked at her sister with an expression of anticipation.

  "I know how much my sister enjoys you," Maorna replied, looking from her to him, "but I find the thought of you sticking your fat sausage inside me and squirting your greasy juices all over disgusting. I can barely tolerate Caeli leaking on me after the two of you come as it is. No offense."

  "None taken," he murmured, smoldering.

  "Obviously, this is not working out," Medb declared.

  But Caeli replied, "Now, don't be hasty, I'm sure we can work something out. Let me confer with my sister first." She looked at Maorna, who nodded, and the two of them made their way to the opposite side of the pit, where they huddled together and whispered to each other.

  "I am not sanguine we can come to terms," Medb told him.

  He shot her an annoyed look. "Well, maybe if you weren't so stubborn we could. What's wrong with the four of us being together, or even them both servicing you and me individually?"

  "I will not do it."

  "Good God, woman, why does everything have to be your way or the highway?"

  "Do not dare to blame me! We are paying these women for their service; they should be willing to do as we say."

  "They offer a specific service, and if we want something different, we'll just have to go elsewhere. They certainly have the right to say what they will or will not do with their own bodies."

  "Cumhala have no such rights."

  "Damn it, they're not slaves! They're entrepreneurs, shit, craftswomen you'd call them."

  "A cerd cannot refuse to render whatever service his or her airech may demand, even if the latter pays for that service."

  "We're not their lords!"

  "Once we pay them, we become such, until the service is fully rendered."

  "Well, that's not the way it is here."

  "Excuse us."

  They looked back down at pit. Caeli and Maorna had returned, and they were standing on their feet, which Medb took to be a sign they had arrived at a mutually acceptable decision.

  "We don't mean to interrupt," Caeli continued, "but we'd like to suggest a compromise. If Mayv doesn't mind waiting, Maorna and I will spend time with you first, then she'll go to her while you and I finish up, and when they're finished, I'll take Maorna's place until Mayv is satisfied. How does that sound?"

  "It sounds fine to me," he said as he looked at Medb.

  It made no difference to her one way or the other, so she shrugged and nodded.

  "Just one other thing," Caeli added; "we want quadruple our usual fee."

  "Holy cow! Why so much?"

  "You want to have sex with us separately, and we're offering to do you twice. That's the same as if we did four different clients in a row."

  "Alright, being separate, you deserve twice. But when you were with me in the past, you let me come as many times as I could manage, for just the one fee."

  "We'll still do that, only now we'll be doing it twice for each of you."

  When Medb saw that he could not answer that, she said, "I have no objection to paying you more for additional service. However, what you are offering is not quite double your normal service. Maorna will only be with each of us for a limited time, even if you will remain until we have exhausted ourselves; therefore, you would be entitled to a full fee from each of us, but she only half. Also, I would not wish to wait while you two service Rothgar first, so if I agree to it, I would expect some consideration in return. I believe triple your usual fee would be most generous under the circumstances."

  The sisters looked at each other, then turned their backs and put their arms around their shoulders and their heads together as they discussed her offer. With her druidically enhanced hearing, she heard every word they said, and she smiled when they agreed to her terms. But she said nothing before they turned around again.

  "Alright, we have a deal," Caeli said. "Help us out." And they raised their hands.

  They did as they were bidden, and when the sisters stood between them, Caeli said, "Give us an hour to clean off, then come to our place; you remember where it is." It wasn't a question, but he nodded.

  "Bring our fee with you; once we have verified the amount we'll get started." And with that, they clasped hands and walked off towards an opening in the wall of the surrounding terrace.

  Medb had insisted upon paying half the fee, to which Rothgar had only put up token resistance. However, unbeknownst to him, she had also sent Teehar'owan to fetch Cremedevoyageur, and the young tomcat had followed them to the sisters' house. Once they had counted out the coins, they directed her to one bedroom while they escorted Rothgar into the other. She waited, taking the time to undress, until she was sure the three were well involved with each other before she opened the window and whistled. Creme jumped up onto the sill within moments, then down onto a nearby chair.

  "What may I do for you, Madam?" he asked as she closed the window.

  "I want you to be a witness to what happens here this afternoon."

  He twitched his tail in a mischievous manner. "Not that I am not fascinated by human mating, but why? Do you suspect treachery?"

  "I simply wish to be prepared. Teehar is watching from outside with Runt. I want you under the bed while the sisters are with me."

  "And what do you want me to do, should your fears be realized?"

  "I cannot say, because I cannot predict what, if anything, may happen. I trust your judgment, Creme, so I will leave it up to you."

  The cat jumped down and headed for the bed, but he paused before he went under. "Try not to break the frame." Then he disappeared underneath.

  She smirked at the cat's mocking tone as she turned her attention to the commode that stood against one wall. A ceramic pitcher and basin sat on one side, and beside
them were a crystalline carafe filled with a light amber liquid along with a goblet of delicate cut glass. She walked over, picked up the decanter, and pulled the stopped. A rich aroma of honey tickled her nose and she smiled. The sisters must have done some investigation before she and Rothgar arrived.

  She poured and drank three glassfuls of the mead in quick succession; she wanted to get in the mood as soon as possible. As she poured the fourth for more leisurely consumption, she paused as she felt an odd sensation in her gut. She stood quiet for some moments as she analyzed the sensation, then promptly smashed the carafe on the floor before inserting an index finger into her throat and vomiting the contents of her stomach into the basin.

  Creme peeked out from under the bed as she leaned over the commode, clutching its top, trying to control her spasms. "What happened?"

  She glanced at him and straightened up. "The liquor was poisoned."

  He came all the way out. "Are you all right?"

  She chuckled. "Ach, yes, my body can breakdown whatever it absorbed before I purged myself."

  "Thank the Great Mother you were able to detect it."

  "Hrm, yes, I--" She froze as a realization jolted her. "Cac! Rothgar!"

  She bolted out of the room into the hall and charged though the thick, heavy door, smashing it into kindling. Three figures lay in the bed: Caeli sandwiched between the barbarian and her sister, Maorna facing her as they fondled and kissed each other while Rothgar took her from behind. They jumped when Medb crashed in on them, but before any of the could react, she leapt onto the bed, pushed Rothgar off, grabbed Maorna by the back of the neck and threw her across the room, and seized Caeli by the throat, jamming a knee into her stomach. Creme followed her in and ran to Maorna, standing between her legs as he hissed and spat.

  Rothgar got up on his knees and leaned over the bed. "What the hell--?"

  She stared at him. "They poisoned the spirits they gave us; did you drink any?"

  His face twisted into a look of horror as he glanced at the commode. Medb shifted her gaze and saw a bottle of vodka sitting next to the pitcher.

  Snarling in fury, she turned her attention back to Caeli. "Did you poison him?"

  "Y-y-yes," she managed to croak.

  Medb tightened her grip. "Tell me what the antidote is or I will crush your windpipe and snap your neck."

  "If you kill her," Maorna cried, "you'll both be dead in twenty-four hours!"

  "Give us the antidote and I will let her live."

  "We will, but only if you do what we say!"

  Medb tightened her grip more as Caeli gagged and choked. "Do it now or I will send her soul to Scathach."

  "I don't care; all the more for me."

  Medb narrowed her eyes. "Once I have dispatched her, I will deal with you next."

  "Be my guest, but I won't give it to you, and I'll have the satisfaction of knowing we will take the two of you with us."

  Medb stared at her and saw a cold calculated determination in her eyes. She realized she wasn't bluffing. She removed her knee and let Caeli go. The sister gasped and choked as she stood up.

  "Let her go, Creme."

  He turned his head and gave her a questioning look. She nodded and he trotted away, but sat down in front of the open doorway to keep an eye on the sisters.

  As Maorna went to help her sister, Medb walked to the window, opened it, and whistled. Moments later, Teehar flew up and perched on the sill.

  "Go to Mephitis and tell her Rothgar and myself will pay her visit shortly."

  "Yes, Mistress." He flew in a fury of wings.

  "She can't help you," Maorna said as Caeli sat up, still struggling for breath, "this poison is unknown to her. We made sure of that first."

  Medb turned to look at them. "We shall see. Now, what do you want?"

  Maorna hesitated as Conaed crawled into the widow and sat on the sill. "What we have to say is for you and Rothgar only. We don't want anyone else involved, especially the cats."

  "These are my companions. We will need their help in whatever you want done, and their loyalty is to me first. If I instruct them to tell no one else, they will obey."

  Maorna frowned as she sat on the bed beside her sister. Medb could see she was upset, but she was also puzzled. "You don't seem to understand. You're in no position to set conditions. Get rid of them, or no antidote."

  Medb couldn't help feeling smug as she cracked a nasty smile. "I am afraid it is you who does not understand. My body neutralized the poison shortly after it was absorbed. That was how I discovered it. You have no hold over me."

  The sisters exchanged anxious looks.

  "Furthermore, let me add that if you allow Rothgar to die, no power in the universe--not the cats, not the Great Ones, not the Outré Gods, not even Nyarlathotep himself--can stop me from tracking both of you down, roasting you over a slow fire, and flaying you alive while I carve off tidbits to feed to the Cunna Mhorrigan. And I can keep you alive for days. Now, tell us what you want before I lose my temper!"

  "I told you this wouldn't work, you cunt!" Caeli raged.

  "Shut up, you fucking slut! We've got Rothgar, and as long as we do, Mayv'll do whatever we want!"

  "And what if she decides just to let him die!? Did you ever think of that?!"

  "You heard what people told us; she'll do anything to protect her friends! Now let me handle this and just back me up, or so help me, she won't have to barbecue you!"

  "Don't you threaten me or I'll make your face look like it went through a meat grinder!"

  Medb tried to ignore their bickering, hoping it would run its course, but instead it appeared to be escalating.

  "Enough!!" Her voice cracked like a lightning bolt supported by a peal of thunder as her eyes flashed and a cloud of darkness took shape behind her. The sisters cringed, looking terrified, and even Rothgar appeared intimidated.

  "Do not try my patience!" Her voice crashed like roaring surf as the room creaked and groaned, and an actinic halo formed around her head that flashed with electric arcs. "I could very easily force you to give up the antidote, but that would reduce the two of you to mindless idiots. And as much as I would enjoy that, I could not be certain you had told me the truth until it was too late. Now, this is your last chance: tell me what you want!"

  From "Older Than Dirt"

  Differel awoke with a start, but from long practice made no move. She was on her side, facing the wall, with the space of the room behind her. She listened for any noise, but heard nothing; at least, nothing she hadn't heard before. She watched the wall, looking for any moving shadows and playing lights, but saw nothing, though her myopia made details indistinct. She took a couple of deep breaths, trying to detect any unusual smells, but nothing got past the scent of her freshly washed pillow cases. Yet there was something back there; she could feel it.

  Ever since she had lost her father, she could sense when someone or something was in the room and wake up, no matter how soundly she slept. Even her journeys to the Dreamlands hadn't stopped it. The doctors (psychiatrists really) Aelfraed had taken her to see suggested it was all in her head, each using a different form of medical mumbo-jumbo to explain it (one went so far as to blame it on an Electra complex) and each suggesting a different course of treatment to "cure" it. But it had saved her life more times than she could count.

  She eased her right hand under the nearest pillow and gripped the L117A2 pistol she slept with. Everything in her bedroom would be at point-blank range, giving the 9mm Parabellum rounds an excellent chance to penetrate even the toughest hide. She took another deep breath and threw herself onto her back and into a sitting position, throwing off the covers and swinging her legs around so that she sat on the edge of the bed as she pointed the gun into the room. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, but everything as a blur, though everything was familiar, except the compact shadow six feet from her bed with the two glowing-red spots near its top.

  Panic-stricken, she reached across herself to turn on the lamp sitting
on her nightstand as her heart thudded against her sternum, her stomach clenched, and her blood turned to ice water. She expected it to throw itself at her any second. Where the hell was Vlad?!

  When the light flooded the room, she blinked away the blindness and tried to focus on the intruder. It was still blurry, but it seemed more natural, though still unrecognizable. It almost looked like a short person dressed in a black fur coat. She fumbled for her glasses and slipped them on. It was a person; in fact, a little girl. She couldn't have been more than thirteen. She wore a shiny black robe made of short fur, with large, rounded cuffs and a high, rounded collar, that snuggled up against her chin and jaw, and extended around to halfway up the back of her head. It was tied around her middle with golden ropes, while a golden train dropped beneath the hem and trailed out the back. An attached cape that fell to her ankles was blood-red on the inside, with a gold-colored decorative pattern like upside-down flames. Her skin, what she could see of it, was milk-white and her orange-gold hair had been bound into a sphere at the back of her head above the collar. A prominent widow's peak descended her forehead almost to the bridge of her small, delicate nose. The oddest thing of all about her, though, was that the left side of her face was completely covered with a black half-mask, and she wore a black glove and boot on her left hand and foot, while her right foot bore a normal shoe.

  She felt herself begin to relax at the sight of her, and she forced herself to remain alert. Only a powerful paranormal entity could breach estate and house security and make it to her suite before being intercepted. But, where the hell was Vlad?

  {He will not come.}

  The voice that whispered in her mind was feminine and childlike, and the being in front of her spread its blood-red lips into a tiny, thin smile.

  Terror coursed through her nerves as her body shuddered; she pulled the trigger out of reflex. As soon as the pistol went off, time seemed to slow down to a crawl. She watched as the barrel and chamber slid back, expelling the bullet in a flash of fire. It streaked towards the girl, pushing a shockwave of air ahead as it left a trail of translucent turbulence whorls and waves behind. It slowed as it approached her, finally coming to a dead stop inches away from the spot between her blue-eyes.

  "Nice shot," she said aloud in a soubrette voice. As soon as she spoke, time resumed its normal speed and the bullet dropped to the carpet.

  Differel's fright was momentary and having passed she found she could think rationally. She placed the pistol on the nightstand. With the powers this being had, she could have torn her apart before she even got out of bed.

  "Still, a bloody waste of time."

  The girl smiled more broadly, but at the same moment Master Sergeant Giles Holt kicked open the door from the boudoir. She didn't move or change her expression, but before he could enter the door slammed shut in his face, throwing him back. Differel heard him curse and run through the dressing room into the bathroom, but that door barely opened before it too slammed shut. He hollered in an angry tone as he beat on the door with his rifle butt.

  "Please ask him to stop," she said. "It is giving me a headache."

  "Mr. Holt," Differel shouted, looking at the door, "it's no use; stand down."

  The hammering stopped, but Holt yelled through the door, "Are you all right, Mum?"

  "I am for now. Regroup in the boudoir, but take no action for the time being. And have Aelfraed find out what's happened to Vlad."

  "Yes, Mum." She heard him tramp through the bathroom back to the dressing room. She doubted he would remain there long. Once reinforcements arrived she expected he would sneak back into the bathroom, to try to catch the intruder off guard.

  "Not a bad plan."

  She snapped her back towards the girl and favored her with a narrow-eyed frown of suspicion, but she was startled when she curtsied low and bowed her head.

  "My apologies for the intrusion, Lady Dunwich."

  "Hmph." As long as she was willing to be polite, Differel decided she should give her the benefit of the doubt. "You're a Vampire, are you not?"

  The girl straightened up. "I am, but how did you guess?"

  "It wasn't conclusive, but your eyes glowing in the dark, your lack of contractions, and your powers suggested it. What is your name?"

  "I am Hyaline Maximilia de Grymm. At your service, Your Ladyship."

  "Sir Differel will do. Why did you say Vlad would not come?"

  "I asked a favor of him: that I could have fifteen minutes with you without his interference."

  She frowned, confused. "Why would he agree, or even trust you?"

  "We are old acquaintances. He knows I am honorable, and that I am too powerful for him."

  Differel tensed. Maybe letting her guard down was a mistake. If she had no fear of her servant or guards, she could turn on her at any moment.

  "Be at ease, Sir Differel, I mean you no harm. I am not bound by the will of the Conclave, but I am no rogue. I bear neither you nor your Order any ill will."

  "Then why the clandestine theatrics? Why not simply contact me for a meeting?"

  "I had to prove my good intentions. I believed that if I came to you when you were most vulnerable and did no harm that would show my good faith."

  "Hmph. I see."

  "I take it it worked?"

  In point of fact it had, but Differel didn't want to openly admit that yet. "Would you like some tea?"

  "Tea would be lovely; thank you."

  They sat at a small table in the tea room, on opposite sides, watching Aelfraed as he poured lady grey into cups in front of them. Behind the girl Vampire stood Vlad. The fifteen minutes were up, and while he tried to look inconspicuous, he watched de Grymm like a cat watching a mouse hole. She glanced at him at short intervals, giving him an unpleasant look each time. For his part he looked rather sheepish, which was very out of character.

  She and de Grymm waited until Aelfraed set the pot between them. "Thank you, we can manage from here," she said. She had put on a robe but nothing else, but he was completely dressed, though as he often did in the house he left off the jacket. She sometimes wondered if he slept in his clothes; the only other explanation was that he was some kind of quick-change artist.

  He bowed his head. "Very good, My Lady; Miss. Please ring if you need anything." He then left the room. She caught a glimpse of Holt hovering outside in the hall before the door closed.

  "Please, help yourself." She watched as de Grymm poured in a bit of milk and added a light teaspoon of sugar. After putting on her robe and alerting Aelfraed about her guest, she escorted the girl Vampire herself, so there would be no incidents. In the boudoir Holt and the guards gave them plenty of room, but followed at a discreet distance, and along the way they encountered more in the solar. If de Grymm was disturbed by their presence, she didn't show it, but Differel counted on Holt to keep any young over-enthusiastic trigger-happy hothead from acting on his or her own.

  When they arrived at the tea room, she signaled Holt to remain outside. He nodded, but she noted that he didn't look very happy about it. Inside Vlad waited for them. He nodded to de Grymm, who nodded back, but they exchanged no words. She and her guest waited in silence for the short time it took Aelfraed to wheel in the tea service, and she noted with pride that he had set up for cream tea rather than a meal tea. They let him set the table before sitting, after which he poured for them both. It didn't escape her notice that Vlad had set books under the legs of one chair so that the girl Vampire could sit at a proper height.

  She raised an eyebrow as she fixed her own cup while she watched de Grymm cut a scone in half and layer both pieces with clotted cream and strawberry jam. "I was under the impression Vampires could not digest solid food."

  De Grymm took a bite as she prepared two scones of her own, and washed it down with a swallow of tea. "No doubt you have other, similar assumptions as well. Please, feel free to voice them."

  "Very well. You stated you were more powerful than Vlad. To my knowledge there is no Vampire more po
werful than he, not even one of the Nosferatu."

  "Under normal circumstances you suppose correct. Your servant is some ten times more powerful for his age, due in no small part to his knowledge of the Dark Arts. However, I am the oldest Human Vampire extant."

  "I understand there are members of the Conclave that are as much as eight thousand years old, and independents up to twelve. How old are you?"

  "I am Pre-Thurian."

  A jolt ran through her nerves, and she clattered her cup on its saucer. "Bloody hell."

  "For obvious reasons, it is difficult to be certain, but I estimate my turning to have occurred around 27,000 years ago, give or take a couple of centuries."

  From "The Market at Kuhikugu"

  Eile eyed the huge crack in the cyclopean wall as she and Sunny approached the ruins. "Huh."

  "What?"

  "I'm just now realizing that Kuranes suckered us good."

  Sunny frowned as disapproval stared back out of her azure blue eyes. "We knew what we were getting into when we agreed to do this."

  She glanced at her partner. "You sure about that?"

  Sunny gazed at the structure with an uncertain expression. "Ummmm..."

  She sported a lopsided smile. "Be sure ta quite when it hurts."

  Sunny shot her an exasperated look. "Oh, hardy-har-har, Little Miss Funny-Pants. So, whaddya wanna do? Quit and go home?"

  She felt her temper flare. "Hey! I ain't never run from a challenge before, and I ain't gonna start now, Missy! So do me a favor and put a sock in it!"

  Sunny smiled and crinkled her eyes behind her granny glasses. "Whatever you say, partner!"

  "Heh." She realized she had made her mad on purpose. "I oughta smack you."

  Sunny made no response except to giggle.

  As they covered the last hundred yards, Eile reviewed the information King Kuranes had given them when he asked for their help. The city-state of Kuhikugu had been the chief rival of Celephais for control of Ooth-Nargai and much of the eastern continent during the early years of his reign. The war between them, first cold as they competed for trade routes, later hot as they fought to protect their interests while attacking each other's, had been long and bitter, but eventually Celephais prevailed, and that had started it on the road to acquiring and securing its empire of Ooth-Nargai. Kuhikugu was abandoned and fell into ruins; after so many centuries, all that remained more or less intact were parts of the circuit wall and the cathedral, which was quite possibly the largest free-standing structure outside of the cloud-city of Serranian, almost as big as a village in its own right. However, Kuhikugu remained occupied, not with honest citizens trying to eke out a living among the ruins, but with criminals who used it as a sanctuary from Kuranes's troops. Kuhikugu technically lay outside the empire's jurisdiction, but even so, Kuranes's advisors had estimated that a hundred times the number of troops used to lay siege and conquer the city would be needed to go door-to-door to clean it out, and no one could guarantee such a huge operation would even be successful.

  As a result, the outlaws felt quite safe, but rather than use the city as a base of operations, they converted the cathedral into the largest black market in all the Dreamlands. Pirates, raiders, slavers, and highwaymen, among others, came from all over the Lands to unload their booty in the city, trading it to entrepreneurs who then shipped it across the Lands to sell in more legitimate markets. To be sure, it was a supreme embarrassment to Celephais that such a large criminal enterprise operated openly so close to its territory, but more importantly, it posed a serious threat: who knew what was being traded, or where it came from?

  Kuranes had asked them to investigate the market and try to find out who was involved, perhaps even who ran it. That was nothing new to them; in the Waking World they had helped the police by infiltrating illegal street markets, and he knew it. As such, all they were expected to do was some reconnoitering and otherwise keep a low profile. But Kuranes also knew that trouble followed them like a love-starved puppy. Eile suspected he hoped something would happen, and they would take down the market on their own.

  When they reached the opening in the cathedral wall, the first thing Eile noticed were the two gigantic, well-armed, and heavily-armored guards standing just inside on opposite sides. Then a robed, elderly, pewter-haired man with a cadaverous gray face strode into view from behind the right-hand guard. She almost laughed because of the big bushy eyebrows that arched over his stone-gray eyes and his long, pointed nose, but she stifled it. His look suggested he wouldn't appreciate the humor.

  He raised an eyebrow when he got a good look at them. "May I help you?" he asked in a quiet light-bass voice, which still sounded like it echoed from inside a tomb.

  That was the critical step. No one could get into the market without a password and a reference unless well-known to the residents. The latter they had covered: Morgiana of the House of Baba, the master thief of the city of Creachabh, was a regular visitor to the market, and a good friend. Meanwhile, Kuranes had given them a word that he said his constabulary had wrangled from a corrupt trader, who had agreed to give it up in exchange for keeping his status as a Citizen of Celephais.

  Whether it was the true password, however, remained to be seen. Eile didn't want to speculate on what might happen to them if it turned out to be wrong.

  Sunny pulled a rolled-up scroll tied with red ribbon out of her belt and offered it to him. "Don Corleone."

  Eile had to admit, that was a stroke of genius. No resident of the Dreamlands would think of it, and she figured few Dreamers would guess that the password came from the Waking World.

  The Ostiary untied the ribbon and opened the scroll to scan its contents. After a few moments he smiled and rolled the parchment back up before handing it to one of the guards.

  "The entry fee is two tahlers."

  Sunny opened the purse on her belt and pulled out two silver coins.

  "Each."

  Sunny glanced at him and smirked, but removed another pair. Eile understood her reaction. She didn't put it past him to enrich himself by cheating newbies.

  He accepted the coins. "Are you buying or selling?"

  "Selling," Eile said, and she jabbed a thumb at the pack on her back.

  He gestured for them to enter, then indicated a long table. "Empty it there."

  Eile shrugged off the pack and she and Sunny removed its contents for inspection. There were thirteen items, all donated by their friends and Kuranes to bolster their claim of being thieves trying to pawn their loot. None of them had expressed a desire to get them back, but she doubted any of them would be upset if they did. They would have to sell a few to keep up appearances, but she hoped they could return at least some of them.

  The Ostiary examined each item in a cursory manner without touching it. It seemed to her he was looking for specific objects. He did, finally, pick up one, an antique crystalline perfume bottle with the seal intact.

  "There is a tariff on this item; twelve gold crowns."

  Sunny flashed him a wide-eyed look of surprise. "A tariff? On stolen goods?!"

  "The Auturbean Pirates have been granted a limited monopoly on this item."

  "Whaddya think?"

  Eile shrugged. "What the hell; pay 'im."

  "Personally I think it's highway robbery, but..." She dug the coins out of her purse and handed them over.

  The Ostiary smiled broadly and bowed. "Welcome to the Market of Kuhikugu. The rules are few and simple; punishments swift and severe. May you prosper and enrich our common endeavor.

  They repacked their items and strode into the interior of the gargantuan building, unable to resist rubbernecking as they walked down the broad central nave. Though the structural architecture stood intact, and the ogival arches that formed the ribbed vault with their support shafts, clustered pillars, and buttresses appeared sound, the interior had been gutted and refilled with a rickety timber scaffolding of multiple stories that supported covered walkways, terraced balconies, alcove stalls with counters,
and helical staircases. The scaffolds covered the windows, so the only illumination came from numerous lanterns, candles, and torches. The ground floor was covered with straw and its stalls served as stables, so the stench of animal sweat, urine, and feces mingled with the smoky haze that limited visibility like a fog at night. As far as Eile could tell, it looked like a fiery holocaust waiting to happen, and the cathedral walls and ceiling would contain the heat and flames turning the interior into an oven. With only one exit (that they knew of) the whole place was one huge deathtrap.

  With the exception of a few people tending their animals and walking purposely from narthex to apse and back, most of the sellers and buyers crowded the upper levels.

  "Whaddya think?" Eile asked, as they turned around their common center and craned their necks.

  "Gonna be hard finding an empty stall," Sunny replied. "And it's gotta be in a good location, or our plan won't work."

  "No shit, Sherlock."

  "Oy! Yous two newbies?"

  Startled, they looked down and saw a small, stringy girl, no more than eleven or twelve, with short-cropped kidney-red hair, skin like bread crust, and blueberry eyes. Her cheeks and nose were spattered with muddy freckles, and she wore a plain belted dung tunic with garishly colored striped stockings and a matching headscarf. A scrip dangled from one side of the belt while she had slipped a knife with a long thin blade under the buckle in front.

  "Aye ain't never seen yous two before."

  Eile exchanged a glance with Sunny before giving the urchin a good hard stare. "Yeah; so? What's it to ya?"

  She beamed a huge grin. "Then yous'll need a page! Me name is Maybell, an I kin be years fir a crown a day!"

  "And just what does a page do?"

  "Anythin yous needs doin. Aye'll watch years gear an valibles, keep an aye out fir pickpockets an sneak thiefs, manage years coins, fetch food an drink, hawk years stuff; yous name it!"

  "You're a gofer!" Sunny squealed.

  Maybell's screwed into a look of utter confusion. "Oy, what?"

  "Put a sock in it, ya ditz. A whole crown's pretty steep for just that."

  "Aye kin also put yous in touch wit those who'll pay top tahler fir years stuff, an tell yous if anyone's tryin ta cheat yous. Fir instance, did yous pay a entry fee fir both of yous?"

  "Yeah, but we already figured he was probably overcharging."

  "But now yous know, an aye kin warn yous bout anyone else, too."

  "Okay. But how do we know yer any good?"

  "Aye was born here. Me Mum was the best page there was, an she taught me everythin she knew."

  "Then maybe we should hire her."

  "Eile, I think her mother's...gone."

  "She's not 'gone'; she's dead, pushed from the top tier over a year ago."

  "Oh." Eile felt really bad about giving her such a hard time. "Hey, I'm sorry."

  "Oy, don't be. Them thins happen round ear. Aye miss her, but Aye gots ta eat same as anyone else."

  "Was it a rival?" Sunny asked.

  "Yeah, but he was actin on orders. But all Aye meant was that Aye's the best there is. Yous won't be sorry yous hired me."

  "Maybe," Eile said. "You talk a good game, but that's all it could be. Still, we could use a helper. Tell ya what: we'll pay ya, um, five tahlers a day ta start. After a week, if ya prove yerself, we'll renegotiate." Actually, she expected her to bargain, but she didn't plan to pay any more than twelve.

  Maybell grinned. "Aye gots a better idea. Give me three challenges. If by the end of the day Aye fulfill all three, yous pay me what Aye want. But if Aye can't complete one of em, Aye'll take yous offer. How bout that?"

  Eile couldn't help grinning at Maybell's audacity. She glanced at Sunny, and her partner smiled, crinkled her eyes, and nodded.

  "Heh, alright, you got yerself a deal. And the first thing we want you ta do is get us the best stall there is."

  The urchin's smile vanished. "The best?"

  "Okay, maybe not the best best, but the best's that's available. We've got somethin' special, somethin' we've smuggled in, and we wanna make sure as many people see it as possible."

  Maybell screwed her face into a thoughtful look. "It'll take me a little time. Head up ta the apse; there's a bar on the second level where yous kin wait. Aye'll come gets yous when Aye have something." And she dashed off without another word.

  From "Saw the Differential"

  When Differel awoke, at first she didn't know where she was. She raised her head and looked around. It appeared to be a lavatory, and a pretty filthy one at that. She grimaced as she realized her face had been lying on some kind of gritty brown and tan stain.

  Before her stood a series of stalls. As she focused on them, she realized the one directly in front of her had had its door removed. The side walls were still intact, but the interior space was closed off, from floor to ceiling, by clear acrylic walls. Inside that space, sitting on the toilet, was Henry, his body slumped in unconsciousness.

  "Henry?" she called out. She tried to rise and felt herself hampered. Her left arm wouldn't move; it felt like it was stuck. Looking at it, she saw that her wrist was covered by a manacle bolted to the floor. She pulled on her arm using her entire torso, but her hand wouldn't budge, there was no give to the restraint and no space beneath it.

  How did we get here? She tried to remember, but it slipped away. Why can't I focus? She concentrated, and fuzzy images manifested themselves before her mind's eye. They are at a mall, window shopping; Cherry Creek. They were going to meet the Girls for lunch at a bistro in the neighborhood, but Henry needed to use the loo first. She waited for him outside, but when he seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of time, she took a chance and went in. The lavatory was empty, but as she checked stalls, when she opened one...

  A dark figure lunged at her; she fell back, reaching for her pistol, then...nothing. Until she awoke here.

  We've been kidnapped!

  The stall to the left of Henry opened, and inside stood a man. She reached inside her jacket and pulled her pistol.

  "I would not bother," a voice said over a loudspeaker. "It will not do any good, and you will need the ammunition."

  At the same time, Differel realized it wasn't human, but a life-sized marionette suspended from the ceiling. Every time the voice spoke, its mouth moved and its eyes flashed, but it wasn't alive.

  "Who are you?"

  "My name is Jigsaw. At least, that is what the press has dubbed me. Personally, I do not like that name; I would not have chosen it. But what can you do? Enough about me. You are The Right Honorable Sir Differel Isolde Churchill Pendragon Van Helsing Plunkett, Dowager Viscountess Dunwich, Baroness Denver, 16th Baronetess of Denver, and Director of the Caerleon Order of the Companions of St. George. I must say, that really is quite a mouthful. And your son is The Right Honorable Henry Abraham Vlad Helsing-Plunkett, 27th Viscount Dunwich."

  "How do you know all that?" What's wrong with me? She just couldn't think.

  "I have been studying you for some time. When I heard you were in town, I decided to make your acquaintance."

  It felt like her mind was starting to clear, his statements were beginning to make sense. "What did you do to me?"

  "I gave you a drug that befuddled your mental capacity, but do not worry, it should wear off soon. I want you completely lucid when the game begins."

  Game? She still couldn't think straight, but she was getting better. "What do you want?"

  "Before I get into that, I must insist that you do not summon your Vampire servant."

  Of course! Vlad! Why hadn't I thought of that sooner? Wait..."What?"

  "I can not have him interfering with our play. If you call him and he appears, I will kill both you and your son. I will release a nerve gas that takes effect in sixty seconds. Even if he could get you two away, there is no cure. So, it is to your advantage to keep him away from here."

  "I suppose the same goes for Caliburn."

  "Yes, very perceptive. I see the drug is weari
ng off sooner than I expected. It was only to prevent you from summoning the Vampire before I had a chance to explain."

  She closed her eyes and sent out a call. Vlad...Vlad.

  {Yes, My Master.}

  Henry and I are in grave danger, but it is imperative that you make no attempt to rescue us. If you do, we will both be killed, and you won't be able to stop it. I give you an order: under no circumstances will you come here until I call you again. Do I make myself clear?

  {Crystal, My Master.}

  "What are you doing?"

  She opened her eyes and looked at the puppet. "Vlad can act on his own initiative. I ordered him to stay away until I summoned him."

  "Sensible."

  She glanced over at Henry. "What did you do to my son?"

  "I gave him a slightly stronger dose of the sedative. I didn't want him calling the Vampire before you had a chance to order him to stay away. He will awaken just after the game begins."

  "You should know, if anything happens to me or Henry, Vlad will not rest until he has hunted you down and torn you apart."

  "That will do you little good."

  "Nor you. Whatever your sick 'game' is, whether you win or lose, you are a dead man. Your best hope for survival is to release us, now."

  "I am already a dead man, Director, I simply have not stopped breathing yet. So your threat holds no terror for me."

  "So be it. What do you want?"

  "I play games. Or rather, I induce other people to play games for my amusement."

  "What sort of games?"

  "The best kind: life and death."

  "I see. And why did you choose me?"

  "You are a survivor. I want to see how far you would go to survive."

  "Then, if this is about me, my son need not be involved. Let him go, and I will play whatever games you want, for as long as you want."

  "You give your word?"

  "Yes, of course."

  "Fascinating. I knew you would be a very different player from the others I have engaged in the past, but I did not expect altruism, not from one such as you. However, every player needs a goal to shoot for...no pun intended. Yours will be freeing your son. Besides, the object of the game is to see what you would sacrifice to stay alive. Your own son, maybe?"

  A cold rage settled over Differel. "I have offered you two chances to walk away from this with a whole skin, but I see you have no honor. I will not offer a third. Win or lose, live or die, I will see you suffer in equal measure to whatever harm befalls my son."

  "We can discuss that later. For now, here are the rules of the game. You will have sixty minutes. You must complete four tasks. The first is to free yourself from the manacle. The second is to open the acrylic box caging your son. The third is to free him from confinement to the toilet. And the fourth is to escape from the room. Everything you need to accomplish these tasks is in there with you. With each success, you will receive a minor reward, nothing that can help you, but they may comfort you. Once the sixty minutes are up, I shall release these."

  The door of the stall to the right of Henry opened, revealing another, smaller acrylic box. Inside were numerous rats, milling about at random and squealing in a cacophony of noise.

  "They have been infected with a particularly virulent strain of rabies, for which there is no cure. They will first be let into your son's cage. They will attack him. If he is free of his restraint, he can climb out of reach, but one or two are sure to bite him before he can. Otherwise, they will devour him. Five minutes later, they will be released into the room to go after you.

  "To make the game more interesting, I will allow for a select number of deus ex machinas. With these, you can have a task nullified, which means I will accomplish it for you by remote control. You may invoke one whenever you wish, but at the price of having fifteen minutes removed from your time. However, they will only be available for a limited time. For the first ten minutes, you make invoke three; for the next fifteen, two; and for the next fifteen after that, one. During the last twenty minutes there will be no more DeM's, and the last task cannot be nullified. However, during the final five minutes, you may make a trade. You can trade your son's life for your own, at which point I will set the rats on him and open the door to the room. Or, you can trade your life for his, at which point the rats will be released into the room but not his cell. Either trade will be available right up until the last five seconds. Any questions?"

  "What guarantees do I have that if I succeed at everything, you will let us go?"

  "The game is what gives me pleasure, not death, and the honor of the game demands fair play and rewarding the winner. If you succeed, you may go free. Any more questions?"

  "Yes, one. What kind of monster are you?"

  "The worst kind: a human monster. Now, let us begin."

  And a clock popped out of the wall, with a sixty minute face. The sweep hand started up, and the countdown commenced.

  Eile and Sunny sat at the bar of the cafe, nursing glasses of wine as they waited for Differel and Henry. They had spent the morning with a finicky, nervous client, holding her hand as they walked her through their proposal, and in the end she had approved it, with revisions. All in all, a productive morning, but they were looking forward to spending the afternoon relaxing with the aristocrat and her son.

  Sunny checked her watch for the hundredth time in five minutes.

  "Will you relax? Yer makin' me jumpy."

  "But they should've been here by now."

  "They probably just lost track of time window shopping."

  Sunny gave her a look as if she didn't believe a word of it. Eile could understand her skepticism; she only half believed it herself. Differel was nothing if not punctual.

  "I'm gonna call her." Sunny pulled her cell phone out of her shoulder bag.

  Eile shrugged. "Suit yerself, but if she's ten feet from the door, she's not gonna appreciate you bustin' her chops for being late."

  Sunny made no reply as she hit the speed dial and put the phone to her ear.

  Eile gazed over at the lobby in a bored manner, watching people come and go. It had a piano and she considered suggesting to Sunny that she go play it as a way to keep her occupied.

  But she perked up when a familiar form emerged from the shadow under the instrument. Dracula coalesced and scanned the room, fixed on the bar, and started towards them.

  "Geezus, that can't be good." Eile nudged Sunny in the ribs. She didn't say anything, but her eyes grew wide behind her glasses and almost popped out of her sockets.

  They stood up when the Master Vampire reached them. "I need your help. You must rescue my Masters." For once, there was an edge of panic to his voice that sent shivers down Eile's spine.

  She was about to say something when Sunny started pounding on her arm.

  "Hey! What gives, ya butthead?!"

  "Listen!" She lowered the phone and pressed a button.

  "Ah, good," a voice came from the phone, "your partner has activated the speaker. By now, no doubt, the Vampire has informed you that I have Sir Differel and her son. I asked that she not summon her slave, but I hope the two of you will attempt a rescue. In fact, I insist upon it. If you are not here in fifteen minutes, I will release a nerve gas that will kill them both."

  "What?! Just who the freakin' hell are you, buster?"

  "Ah, forgive me, that was rude. Jigsaw, at your service M'Ladies."

  "Jigsaw!?!" Sunny squealed.

  "Ah, cripes! What do you want, anyhow?"

  "I believe I explained that already: I want you and your partner to rescue Sir Differel and her son. The clock is ticking, Ladies."

  "Where can we find them?" Sunny demanded.

  "The Vampire can lead you to them. Tick-tock, tick-tock." And then the phone went dead.

  "Aw, shit!" Eile threw a twenty on the bar. "Come on, let's not waste any more freakin' time."

  "Our van's this way!" Sunny walked out with Eile as Dracula followed behind them, his anxiety visible with each step
.

  From "The Spider Judge"

  Eile stopped fighting against the webbing. It was too strong for her to break, and it tightly wrapped her body, pinning her arms and legs so she couldn't get any leverage. She had been struggling off and on for some time, ever since she woke up and found herself cocooned, but finally she gave up the struggle as hopeless, and resigned herself to her fate. She didn't know if Sunny was trapped as well; she hoped she had somehow gotten away.

  She couldn't help reviewing with her mind's eye the events that brought them to that predicament. They had heard rumors of an abandoned emerald mine in the Northern Lands, somewhere in the barrier mountains that separated the Land of Kaar from the Cold Waste. After a few weeks of searching they had found nothing, and they were returning home when they decided to take a "short cut" over a glacier. It wasn't until they fell through a weak spot that they realized it wasn't a glacier, but a valley roofed over by spider webbing and covered with a thin layer of ice and snow. Eile hit the gargantuan web below them with enough force to knock her out for a while. When she came to she quickly determined that she hadn't been bitten, but her sword and dagger were missing. She figured it was only a matter of time before a spider came along and injected digestive juices into the cocoon to reduce her to the consistency of a thick stew.

  A shadow passed over her. "AHH! Get away from me, you asshole!" She started bucking and kicking, as best as she could. She might be a goner, but she wasn't going to give up without a fight.

  A muffled voice came through the webbing. "Eile! Calm down; it's me, Sunny!"

  Ecstatic relief warred with rage that her bimbo partner would risk her life to save her instead of get away to safety. In the end, her irritated impatience won out. "Well hurry up, before they ring the freakin' dinner bell!"

  The point of a dagger passed through the webbing and grazed the side of her neck. "Gaah! Watch it, ya ditz, you almost cut my throat!"

  "Be quiet and hold still!"

  The angry tone in Sunny's voice sobered her. Sunny almost never got mad in a crisis. The blade slid down the front of her body, skipping off the bronze scales that covered her hauberk. She felt the webbing fall away as the strands parted with pops that sounded like plastic tubing being ripped apart. Finally she could move, and she pushed herself up to a sitting position. Sunny knelt beside her, with Shadow-stalker perched on her shoulders.

  "How did you manage ta keep that?" She point at the dagger.

  "I fell on that side, so they couldn't see it."

  "How'd you get out of yer cocoon?"

  "I burned my way out." And Eile saw that the front of her clothes looked singed and covered with soot.

  "I suggest you discuss this later," Shadow said. "For now, let's run before we're discovered!"

  "I'm with you," Eile said as she and Sunny stood up.

  A long, sharp whistle rent the air. When they looked up, Eile saw they were inside a sinkhole. Above them, a tunnel opened out of the circular wall on one side, and standing in the opening was a spider as big as a horse, waving its pedipalps around its head.

  "Cripes! They've on to us! Move!"

  "Where?!"

  "Anywhere but here, ya butthead!"

  They sped off in the opposite direction as fast as they could over the web. Unlike a regular web, the spaces between the main cables were filled with finer webbing that was nonetheless as tough as leather. It could support their weight, but with each step it bowed down below the web. Eile figured it was like running through thick mud, except it wasn't sticky. Thank god for small favors, she thought.

  "They're coming!" Shadow sounded like she was on the verge of hysteria. Eile looked back and saw a dozen spiders racing across the web. They'd be on top of them in only moments.

  Sunny stopped and turned. She stared at the tidal wave of arachnids as if she could destroy them by will alone. "Body slam!"

  A phosphorescent crescent rushed away from them and collided with the three spiders in the fore of the charging mass. It threw them back into their comrades, and they bowled most of them over. The rearmost three, however, were too far back, and they deftly leapt or crawled over their stricken companions.

  "Stone wall!"

  A curtain of distortion, like a heat shimmer, rose up across the width of the sinkhole to a height five times their own. The three pursuing spiders slammed into it like hitting a solid stone wall.

  Eile glanced at Sunny and grinned. "That's my girl!"

  "Complement each other later!" Shadow yowled. "Run!"

  They turned and dashed to the edge of the web, but when they reached the wall Eile found that it was too smooth to climb. The mouth of a tunnel opened about a dozen yards above them, and it looked too small for the spiders to enter. But it might as well be a mile for all the good it'll do us.

  They turned and flattened their backs to the wall. The spiders fought to pass or climb over the invisible wall, but Eile knew the affect wouldn't last much longer.

  "What'll we do?!" Sunny cried.

  "I'm open to suggestions--"

  A cable made from spider webbing dropped in front of her face. Looking up she spotted a runt spider, no bigger than a spaniel, looking down at them. It waved its pedipaps at them and shouted in a loud whispering voice: "Up here! Climb up here!"

  She and Sunny exchanged glances, and from her expression she could tell she was as hopeful and perplexed as she felt. "Whaddya think?"

  Sunny gazed up at the dwarfish spider. "I don't see we have much of a choice, partner."

  "Yeah, but it could be a trap."

  Sunny smiled and crinkled her eyes. "Then we'll just hafta watch our hineys, won't we."

  She nodded. "Okay, but if we get killed, I'm kickin' yer butt when we wake up. You first."

  Sunny giggled. "Sounds like a plan, partner!" Grasping the cable, she started up with all the alacrity of a squirrel. Shadow hung on to her jacket for dear life.

  She waited until Sunny had gotten a dozen feet up, then she started climbing. At almost the same instant the invisible wall collapsed, and the spiders surged forward.

  "We've got incoming! Move yer sumptuous butt!"

  Sunny climbed faster. Eile was always amazed that even though she was the athlete, there were some things Sunny could do better. Even so, the sight of a dozen spiders trying to grab her and pull her down spurred her to better performance. One rose up on its rear pair of legs and raised its front pair to try to seize her. She kicked and cursed, but one of its comrades blundered into it and knocked it over.

  Sunny reached the tunnel and crawled in at the same time the pursuing spiders started up the wall. Eile understood they were going to cut her off, but Sunny reappeared. Looking down, she fixated on the climbing spiders. "Zap!"

  From "Volunteer"

  (explicit language; reader discretion advised)

  Bernice sat on the edge of the examination table, her bare feet dangling over the floor, as she waited for something to happen. She tried to be patient, but as the minutes dragged out into what felt like hours, she began to get bored. The room itself contained nothing that could hold her interest. It was austere--just the bare, aluminum table and an overhead light--and a plain white tiled ceiling, white featureless walls, and white linoleum floor. Even the door opposite her was white. She was the only bit of color, and even she was partially obscured by the white terrycloth robe she wore.

  Looking to her right, she saw her reflection in the large mirror. She had examined it frequently since she had been brought to that room. She had been asked to strip and lie down, and she was subsequently poked, prodded, examined, and questioned by a series of doctors. Her clothes had been removed early on, so when they finally finished they gave her the robe to put on. Despite their clinical attitude, she had been somewhat embarrassed by the close, almost obsessive attention they paid to her body, especially her pubic region, so she had been grateful at first for the chance to cover up. However, her boredom had grown so great she would have welcomed any relief, even a repeat of the physi
cal exams.

  A mischievous idea came into her head, and she hopped off the table. She went over to the mirror and stared into it. She suspected it was one-way: opaque on her side, in bright light; transparent on the other side, in darkness. If that was true, then there were probably doctors on the other side, studying her. And in that case, why not give them something special to look at? She had not secured the robe when she first put it on, so it was a simple matter to throw it open, slip it off, and toss it over her shoulder in one fluid motion.

  She didn't expect any kind of reaction, and she wasn't disappointed, but she strutted up and down the length of the glass a few times before stopping in front of its center. Casting a leer, she twirled the robe around her and tossed it aside, then positioned herself in a number of provocative poses as she imagined the doctors cheering, clapping, and whistling. All the while she examined her reflection as if she were one of them. She wasn't beautiful by any stretch of the imagination, but neither was she homely. Plain might have been the best description, maybe even pretty in a wholesome, girl-next-door sort of fashion. But it wasn't her face the boys had been interested in, not in high school or even later in college. From an early age she had developed a body like a centerfold for a men's magazine, and soon after she realized it didn't matter what her face looked like, the boys would fall all over themselves to go out with her regardless. The fact that she was also a honey blond with big baby-blue eyes didn't hurt.

  Naturally, the boys who dated her hoped they would be able to see more of her than her tight clothing permitted, and she rarely disappointed them. From there, it wasn't long before she let them fondle her, then eat her, and finally penetrate her. Of course, she understood that they enjoyed doing all that to her, but she suspected they would not have understood that she enjoyed it as well. She knew that to them she was just a pair of breasts and a vagina, not a real person, but that didn't matter so long as she knew she was real, with feelings and needs of her own. And if she could satisfy herself while the boys satisfied their lusts, so much the better.

  The door opened suddenly, startling her, and in walked Dr. Granger, the study supervisor. Now she was a stunning woman, but she hid it behind a façade consisting of a long, bulky lab coat and horn-rimmed glasses with thick, black frames, and her caramel hair was bound into a tight, helmet-like 'do around her head. Bernice couldn't understand why she didn't flaunt her looks; she would, if she had them.

  "Getting a bit anxious?"

  "I guess, a little." She felt embarrassed.

  "I'm sorry we kept you waiting so long, but we had to double-check some results."

  "Did I pass?" She was nervous, because she didn't want anything to spoil her chance.

  Dr. Granger broke out in a warm smile. "That you did, and with flying colors. So, if you're ready, we can get started."

  Bernice felt so excited she wanted to prance about, but she kept control of herself. "What do we do first?"

  "I'm going to give you the neuroparalytic I told you about." And she pulled a syringe out of a pocket. "You'll go to sleep for a few minutes, then when you wake up you will be immobilized from the shoulders down."

  "Right."

  "Good. Lie down; I'll give you the injection as soon as you're comfortable."

  Bernice hopped back onto the table and laid on her back, trying not to grin like a fool, but unable to completely suppress her glee.

  "You're quite eager, aren't you?" Dr. Granger swabbed her neck with an alcohol pad. "Good, this works much better with a willing, excited volunteer. I'm going to inject the drug now. You'll feel a sting as I insert the needle, then a sharp pain as I depress the plunger, but it will go away almost immediately. Try not to move, otherwise you could get hurt."

  "Right." Bernice closed her eyes. She felt the sting as the doctor described, then grimaced and hissed as a stabbing pain shot through her neck, but it disappeared in an instant. Within seconds she began to feel dizzy, then groggy, and finally it seemed as if she was sinking into a warm, soft bed as her limbs and body grew heavy. As she drifted off to sleep, she thought back to the day she saw the ad in the student newspaper.

  "Look at this!" Bernice Sawyer said in an excited manner. She slammed the student newspaper down on the table in front of her roommate.

  Peggy Sue McCoy read the half-page ad aloud. She was truly homely, what with her tomboy features, thick glasses, freckles galore, and her dung-colored hair in pigtails. Furthermore, she had the physique of a gangly teenage boy, and a Midwestern nasal twang that made her sound like a hillbilly. But she really was a hick from the sticks, and the cliquey girls in the dorm, the ones who looked like supermodels, called her Piggy Sooey.

  Bernice didn't care. For one thing, Peggy Sue was the smartest girl in their class, and she helped Bernice keep her grade average up, since she was normally too busy to study in the evenings or on the weekends. There were just too many guys and not enough hours to bang them all. For another, Peggy Sue preferred girls. Bernice didn't consider herself bi, but she did like having a pinch hitter for those rare occasions when she couldn't get a date.

  "Wanted, sexually active women between the ages of 21 and 25 for a biophysical study on female orgasm. College students preferred; compensation for time spent. For more information call--"

  "I already did, and we're suppose to go to the Bio-Medical Sciences building for a preliminary interview."

  "'We'?"

  "Why not? We're exactly what they're looking for, and they'll pay us to have sex. We gotta check it out!"

  "What makes you think they'll want us to have sex?"

  "How else can you get a girl to come? I wonder what kind of guys they got to volunteer? Maybe off the football team."

  "I don't want some horny jock sticking his dick in me!"

  "And I suppose that vibrator of yours is different?"

  "Yah, there's no mess to clean up afterward, I don't need to use birth control, and I'm in complete control. Besides, that's probably what they'll use on us. Either that, or it's just an excuse for some horny docs to cop a feel."

  "You have no sense of adventure."

  "Look, Bern, I'm just not like you. I don't need to get laid every night, and twice on weekends."

  "You calling me a nympho?"

  "God, girl, if you ain't, yer doin' a good imitation a' one."

  "You're one to talk. You're always eager enough when I need a substitute."

  "It's either that, or listen to you toss and turn all night, moanin' and sighin'. When I need a good fuck, all I have to do is put in a fresh battery and take a shower. I'd get more sleep if you tried the same thing."

  "You're just trying to weasel out of going. You know it's not the same thing. There's no substitute for a hard-bodied, muscular stud lying on top of you, his arms and legs wrapped around your body and his face buried in your boobs, while he thrusts his hips against yours and drives his cock into you repeatedly. It gets me wet just thinking about it. I still think you'd like it if you tried it once. This is your chance."

  "My way still sounds better."

  "Shit, you're hopeless. Alright, I'll go alone. I can take your partner as well as my own."

  "Have fun." Peggy turned back to her math homework as Bernice left in a huff.

  It was an old fight, one neither of them took too seriously despite the histrionics that sometimes accompanied it. As such, Bernice had no doubt that when she got back, Peggy Sue would be in a more agreeable frame of mind. Or at least she hoped so. She hadn't had a chance to make a date for the evening, and she expected to be triply anxious by the time the interview was over.

  Unfortunately, the whole experience turned out to be more tedious than titillating. When she arrived at the office, the first thing she was asked to do was fill out a series of forms, on her medical history, her sexual history, her fantasies, even her dreams. She also had to sign a release form agreeing to volunteer for the study, a waiver saying she wouldn't sue them if she got hurt or killed (like that's likely to happen, she mused), an af
fidavit stating she was over twenty-one (technically a lie, but she looked it, as long as no one asked to see a birth certificate), and a W2 form for tax purposes (fortunately she remembered to bring her alternate ID, the one she used to get into bars before she turned eighteen). Then she was asked to wait. She exhausted their meager supply of magazines in 25 minutes, there was no TV or DVD player, and the only books were on astro- and quantum physics, relativity, hyperdimensional geometry, and calculus. After 45 minutes she got so board she tried one of them in desperation, and found their pages were filled with weird diagrams and mathematical formulas interspersed by short paragraphs of text. She thought they might as well be books on magic for all she could understand, though they might have been more interesting if they were.

  After an hour and a half she was beginning to doze off, when someone gently shook her awake. Startled, she sprang out of her seat and faced a woman wearing an open lab coat.

  "Bernice Sawyer? I'm Dr. Abigail Granger." She held out her hand.

  Somewhat befuddled, Bernice shook it. "Pleased to meet you."

  If Dr. Granger noticed her confusion, she gave no sign. "I am the project coordinator and psychiatrist. I will be handling your preliminary interview. Will you follow me please?"

  A shrink? Bernice trailed after the scientist as she crossed the room to an open door. Why do they need a shrink to study orgasms? You can't really think while you're having one.

  The door led into a small room with no desk; just two chairs in one corner and a makeshift photo studio in the opposite. Dr. Granger let Bernice go in first, then shut the door behind them.

  "Take off your clothes, please."

  Surprised, Bernice stammered. "What?"

  Dr. Granger gave her a level, soothing stare. "Please take off your clothes. I need to photograph you, and to see how comfortable you are being naked around other people. If you participate in this study, you will spend a considerable amount of time in the nude in the presence of numerous lab technicians, most of them male."

  She hadn't considered that, and it made her nervous. For all her keen interest in sex, she wasn't an exhibitionist. She loved to have guys stare at her body and get all excited, but the thought of a group of men examining her coldly like she was some specimen was very unappealing. Still, if it was necessary, she was willing to tolerate it considering the reward.

  "Okay." Once fully undressed, Dr. Granger had her stand in front of the photo screen and took three pairs of shots: front, side, and back, with hands held behind her head and down at her side. The scientist then took measurements of her bust, waist, and hips, her height and weight, and the length of her legs. She touched Bernice on her neck, shoulders, nipples, tummy, thighs, and crotch, carefully noting how she reacted. Bernice tried to remain still, even relaxed, but the intimate contact unnerved her and she couldn't help flinching.

  Finally, Dr. Granger invited her to sit in one of the chairs. Bernice wanted to ask permission to get dressed again, but was fearful that would make her look bad, so she just sat down, her ankles crossed, her knees pinned together, and her hands crossed over her chest.

  Dr. Granger observed her for some moments. "I'm not sure you are right for this study."

  Bernice felt her heart sink. "Why not?"

  "You're too uncomfortable just being around me; imagine how mortified you'll feel in the presence a dozen people in a lab."

  Bernice hesitantly dropped he arms and folded her hands in her lap. "Yah, well, this wasn't what I was expecting."

  "What were you expecting?"

  She shrugged. "I don't know, exactly, but I'm not like this when I'm alone with a guy in his room."

  "What difference would that make?"

  Bernice did a mental double take. "Plenty. You're doing this study to see how I react when some guy gets me off, not when I'm being measured and poked. If you want to see how 'comfortable' I can be, just get one of your male volunteers in here and strip him down to his altogether, then sit back and watch the fireworks."

  Dr. Granger smiled in genuine amusement. "I'm afraid you have the wrong idea about this project. You won't be having sex."

  Momentarily forgetting her condition, Bernice leaned forward in shocked surprise, her legs spreading apart as she uncrossed her ankles and braced herself with her hands on her knees. "No sex?! Then, how...?"

  "We'll be using a device inserted into your vagina."

  "You mean a vibrator?" She hated to think Peggy Sue might've been right after all.

  "Not exactly, though it is similar. Only, it uses electrical current to stimulate the vulva and cervix rather than vibration."

  Rapidly loosing all interest, Bernice leaned back in the chair, no longer self-conscious. "Then you'll want my roommate. She's never been with a guy, just uses a vibrator, or a dildo with another woman."

  "This is something brand new. It was developed by a sex toy manufacturer, and they have agreed to let us test it in our study."

  "I thought you were studying orgasms."

  "We are, but studies like this cost money. The company is funding our research, but in exchange we must use their device to initiate orgasm. Previous trials have demonstrated that it is remarkably effective: faster, safer, and more effective than any previous device. We would not have agreed to their terms if they could not prove to us it worked, and so far we have not been disappointed with its results. Would you like to see it?"

  Bernice felt curious despite herself. "Okay, sure."

  Dr. Granger reached down beside her chair and picked a carrying bag off the floor. Holding it in her lap, she unzipped its top and removed an object. It was the same length and shape of a vibrator, but instead of having a blunt, bullet-shape end, there was a cup-like depression. The shrink held it out to her and Bernice took it. Looking at the cup, she saw it was the same size and shape as a diaphragm, and she imagined it was meant to fit over her cervix. Though it had a hard, solid core, the outside was covered with silicon latex, while the interior of the cup showed a number of tiny silver metallic nodules poking through the rubber.

  "Would you like to try it?"

  That caught her by surprise. "Um, vibrators aren't really my thing, but...I guess it couldn't hurt."

  Dr. Granger flashed a lopsided smile, but made no reply. Instead she reached into the bag and pulled out a pair of gloves, then removed a bottle of lotion.

  "This device uses a special lubricant, one that also serves as a good conductor of electricity. That allows the device to keep the current low, so there is no risk of burning or electrocution. Let me have it."

  Bernice returned it and watched as the shrink spread a generous coating of lotion all along its length except for the rear grip, with extra inside the cup. "You might want to lie on the floor. Unlike a vibrator, this device works best when it's properly fitted, and it fits best in a flat position."

  She didn't exactly like the idea of lying on an uncomfortable surface, but at least it was carpeted. "What the hell." She rose from the chair and stepped beside it, kneeled, and then laid back, stretching out flat.

  Dr. Granger presented her with the device. "Have you ever used a diaphragm?"

  "Uh, no."

  She nodded. "Grasp it by the handle. Hold it so the red stripe along the side faces up. It should slide in easily, but go slowly, until you feel it touch your cervix. Then gently maneuver it so it's comfortably seated. You should try a number of different positions until you find one you like, but be careful. Movements that are too hard or fast could bruise the lining of your vagina."

  Bernice considered it an odd feeling; not soft and pliable like a cock, but still smooth and slippery, and not too big. It went in easily and she quickly moved it into place.

  "With a vibrator you would normally move it around inside, but this device works best if you leave it alone. Once you turn it on, use your hands for external stimulation. The commercial model will have twelve settings in groups of three. This demonstrator model only has the first three, but I can assure you that's plenty to get
familiar with it."

  She threw the shrink a knowing smirk, who grinned. "Well, I couldn't very well agree to its use unless I knew how it worked."

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